


Family Dinner

by thewightknight



Series: Redemption Is Not a Dirty Word [3]
Category: Aquaman (2018), DC Extended Universe
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Mending Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 23:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17334299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: “I’d like to meet this brother of yours,” Tom said one evening after dinner.Arthur choked on his beer. “No, you really don’t, dad.”





	Family Dinner

“I’d like to meet this brother of yours,” Tom said one evening after dinner.

Arthur choked on his beer. “No, you really don’t, dad.”

“Yes, I really do,” Tom shot back, smiling across the table at his son.

“That’s a terrible idea. Mom,” he pled, “tell dad it’s a horrible idea.”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea, son.”

“No, it's not.” Arthur said.

“Yes, it is,” Atlanna replied.

“See?” Tom said, the grin spreading.

 

Orm had ignored the books Arthur had brought him on general principle for a full week, but boredom had caught up to him eventually. Perusing through the titles, he picked one at random. _Le Morte d’Arthur_ , the title page read. It was pure drivel, but the archaic language challenged him, and it was a way to pass the time.

He didn’t realize how engrossed he’d become until a thump on his window drew him away from the book. Looking up, he was surprised to find the Fisherman princess glaring at him from the waters outside. When he met her eyes, she hissed at him, slapping her palm on the barrier between them again before beginning to swim back and forth, her fierce expression never lessening.

The barrier was soundproofed, so he couldn’t converse with her even if he wanted to. With nothing else to do, he returned to his reading, ignoring her presence.

It was only a few minutes later when Arthur entered.

“Huh. That’s where she went.”

“The talks are not going well then, I take it?” Orm asked, feigning indifference as he turned a page.

“You could say that. Looks like we’re adjourning for the evening. Got any plans for dinner?”

“One of these days you will realize that you are not actually funny, brother.”

“Don’t hold your breath. C’mon. Time for another fieldtrip.”

 

This time they had an escort. Two ships followed Mera’s from Atlantis. Although their conversations were light, Orm couldn’t help but notice that Arthur and Mera and Atlanna constantly scanned the waters through which they passed. The talks must be going more poorly than he’d been led to believe.

This time when they surfaced, it was before a rocky crag. A white building stood at the top of the cliff, with a light shining from its tall tower. There was a man standing at the end of the wooden pier, weathered of skin and grey haired. He waved at them and smiled, and that smile seemed somehow familiar. As they each disembarked Arthur greeted him with a hug, Mera kissed him on the cheek, and Atlanna took his hand.

“Dad, this is Orm,” Arthur said. “Orm, my father. Tom Curry.”

“Good to finally meet you, son.” He held out his hand and Orm stared at, considering whether or not to take it. An elbow in his ribs and one of those looks from his mother settled the matter for him.

Tom’s hand was rough, but warm. He had a firm grip.

“C’mon. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Surface food bemused him. The textures were strange and the flavors stranger. He took each bite cautiously, evaluating it as he chewed and swallowed. It took him by surprise when he found his plate empty. Tom beamed at him and shoved the serving bowl in his direction. No one commented when he took a second helping.

“How are the talks going?” Tom asked. It surprised Orm, that Arthur would keep his father so informed of the doings below the surface. Arthur’s look also surprised him. For once, his brother wasn’t smiling.

“They’re going.”

“That well, huh?” Tom asked.

“I assume requests for my head are still up for discussion?” Orm couldn’t help but asking, just to see everyone’s reactions.

“Now’s as good a time to talk about it as any, right?” Arthur said. More looks passed between them before Atlanna continued.

“They’re talking about a marriage to unite our kingdoms.”

Well, wasn’t that interesting. He’d seen the looks that Arthur and Mera shared from the first. Now his brother would learn one of the costs of his kingship. “That is one of the prices to be paid when your head wears the crown.”

Atlanna took one of his hands in her own. “Not Arthur’s marriage, son. Yours.”

Oh.

“Mother is the one arguing the most against it, just so you know,” Arthur said.

“And why are you surprised by that? We’ve all paid some form of a price because of my arranged marriage and I did not have the Fisherman Princess’ reasons to object to my match. I won’t see my son saddled with a reluctant bride, especially one who is not subtle in her thirst to spill his blood.”

“Is that why she was hissing outside my window today?”

“Probably,” Arthur said.

 “If she is still demanding my head doesn’t that make the suggestion of marriage rather pointless?”

Atlanna grunted, a frustrated sound. “We’ve made that point, as have others.”

“Then why do the talks continue?”

“Because there are more who still think it is a solution, on all sides,” Atlanna said. “The argument is that since you disrupted their leadership you should help mend it. They were not amused when I called them mad.”

That led to an uncomfortable silence that Tom broke. “Time for dessert. Give me a hand, Mera?”

It was an obvious ploy on Arthur’s father’s part, leaving the three of them at the table.

“I will not allow this, Orm. I did not return only to lose you again.” Atlanna had not yet let go of his hand and she squeezed it, almost to the point of pain.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it. We’ll work something out,” Arthur added.

“Why? If reparations are demanded and the majority wishes for this, then proceed.” Orm took some small satisfaction in their matching expressions, two sets of wide eyes, two jaws slack in amazement. “The Fishermen are, on the whole, a peaceful people. I should be able to fend off my intended’s attacks long enough to establish a truce between us.” That might take some time, considering what he had done, but separate quarters were the norm in such situations so his sleep should be undisturbed.

“I think we’ll keep trying to find another solution,” Arthur said when he found his voice again.

Any further discussion was delayed by the return of Tom and Mera. Tom bore a plate containing strata of a vividly pink and sponge-like substance white fluffy cream, with a gelatinous layer on top. Mera had a suspicious white fluffy bit of at one corner of her mouth.

It was the strangest and most delicious thing Orm had ever eaten.

Afterwards he found himself in the meal preparation area with Arthur, using a piece of cloth to dry their plates and utensils after Arthur cleaned them.

“It’s a tradition. Whichever of us cooks, the other cleans up,” Arthur had said before they started. The menial labor was almost restful.

As they said their goodbyes, Tom drew Atlanna to the side. Orm eavesdropped shamelessly, but only caught one sentence before the moved too far away for him to overhear.

“He’s a grown man, Atlanna. Been making his own decisions for years.”

The return trip was silent, as was the walk back to his confinement. At the door, he left Arthur with these parting words.

“You have plans to make, and I have books to read. Good night to you, brother.”

“Yeah. Good night.”

_It was my pride and my stubbornness that brought all this about._

He read late into the evening, of knights and enchantments and broken vows and endings that were not truly endings.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to say hi, [check out my profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/profile) for where I’m currently hanging out on this here internet thing.


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